


The Story of Tonight

by ClearEyes95



Series: How Lucky We Are To Be Alive Right Now [2]
Category: Coco (2017)
Genre: F/M, Mexican Revolution Background
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-01-17
Updated: 2018-01-17
Packaged: 2019-03-06 00:57:27
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 955
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/13400019
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/ClearEyes95/pseuds/ClearEyes95
Summary: Ernesto de la Cruz comes back from the battlefield to an unexpected, and probably unwanted, surprise in Santa Cecilia.





	The Story of Tonight

**Author's Note:**

> Part Two of "How Lucky We Are to be Alive Right Now."  
> The stories will be under the same universe, my own interpretation of the Coco universe, and they will not be in chronological order. I wrote the years at the top and I hope that helps.  
> Feel free to ask anything.  
> Enjoy!

The Story of Tonight

_Year: 1913_

            Ernesto de la Cruz returned to Santa Cecilia in September of 1913, three years after he’d left to seek glory in the revolutionary war. The whole town welcomed him when he arrived mounted on a black horse, a little worse for wear, smelly, tired, unshaved, and still with the uniform they used on the battlefield. He had a brown straw hat to protect himself from the sun, which was shining as if it was still summer. Héctor was one of the first to approach his friend when he unmounted in the center plaza, give him a firm handshake and a couple of manly pats on the back.

            “Ernesto!”

            “Héctor! You, my friend, are a sight for sore eyes,” Ernesto exclaimed, obviously relieved, “I thought you’d died en las trincheras.”

            “I was released from the army after I got injured,” Héctor said with a grimace, “They told me I wasn’t fit for the war anymore.”

            “I heard about your injury, you know how nothing is kept a secret with those guys, and when you didn’t come back I thought the worse. I am glad to see you… well… alive,” Ernesto said with a soft laugh.

            Héctor’s brow creased in confusion.

            “I sent you at least ten letters since then, didn’t you get them?” he asked, and Ernesto coughed somewhat uncomfortable.

            “No, they probably got lost, the mail system is a disaster right now,” he said, looking to a spot of dirt on his boots.

            Ernesto heard then a female voice, and Héctor’s face immediately lit up.

            “Right, Ernesto, I want you to meet someone,” he said, motioning towards a beautiful lady who had latched her arm around Héctor’s. She was graceful, with sharp features and intelligent dark eyes that were making no effort to hide their mistrust.

            Ernesto, ever the Don Juan, took off his hat with a flourish and kissed the back of her hand.

            “It’s a pleasure to meet you,” he said in a velvety voice, full of charm and flirtation. When he heard Héctor snicker, Ernesto glared at him. Meanwhile, the lady retrieved her hand sharply. Héctor placed an arm around her shoulders.

            “Ernesto, this is my wife, Imelda Rivera,” Héctor declared proudly. The broad-shouldered man didn’t really know how to react. The scarecrow got married? On top of that, he got married before him? Everyone knew who was the most handsome of the two; while Ernesto always got the praise for being a good-looking macho, Héctor was usually praised for being kind. Kind! How did being kind get him to marry such a primor?

             “It’s nice to meet you too,” Imelda’s voice interrupted his musings. She had a small smile on her lips, but her eyes were cold and calculating towards him, and he had a feeling that she didn’t like him, “Héctor has told me a lot of stories about his childhood friend.”

             “My apologies, I didn’t know Héctor had gotten married,” Ernesto said with a sharp nod and an uneasy smile.

              Héctor flinched minutely at the implicit accusation.

              “It was a sudden decision,” the lanky man said while rubbing his neck, “I actually told you about in the many letters that never reached you. I thought of sending a telegram, but I had no idea where you were.”

              But Ernesto didn’t want to listen to excuses. His features hardened, and Imelda immediately recognize a very dangerous man, for he had the same expression of her late father.

             “Still, it would have been nice if you had waited until I at least returned to Santa Cecilia before you got married,” he said in what resembled a growl.

              Héctor frowned.

             “It doesn’t work like that, Ernesto,” the lanky man tried to explain, “Imelda doesn’t have a family. It would have been improper to ask her to live with me for nine months until you got here. It just had to be done.”

              Then, Ernesto smiled wide, showing all his teeth.

              “Don’t worry my friend, I understand,” no, he didn’t, “there are no hard feelings,” yes, there are. Imelda’s eyes narrowed at him. “Now that I’m back, though, we should start thinking about that project we wanted to start.” Héctor shifted uncomfortably, his arm unconsciously tightening around Imelda’s shoulders.

              “I don’t know, Ernesto, I am married now. I have a responsibility to my wife,” Héctor said, apologetically, and the older man narrowed his eyes slightly.

              “Come on, Héctor, you can’t just bail out like that. After you got married without letting your best friend know, the least you can do to make it up is to help me out,” Ernesto said in a seemingly regretful tone, one that Imelda was quick to recognize, “No te rajes.”

               Héctor sighed in defeat.

               “I’ll have to think about it,” he conceded.

               “Cariño, what is he talking about?” Imelda then said, also deceptively sweet, matching Ernesto’s tone.

               Ernesto didn’t want Héctor to tell her, but the glare Imelda gave him was powerful enough to freeze his blood.

               “Ernesto and I talked about becoming professional musicians some time ago,” Héctor said looking at Imelda, “but that also means I would have to leave Santa Cecilia.” Her jaw tightened, and she raised an eyebrow at Ernesto. The man decided he never wanted to cross Imelda Rivera.

               “Nothing’s decided yet,” Ernesto attempted to save face.

               “No, nothing’s decided yet,” Imelda repeated and turned to head back home, Héctor following behind. 

               “Maybe you could come for dinner once you’re settled,” Héctor called over his back, “I’m sure my parents would love to have your family over como en los viejos tiempos.”

                Ernesto nodded, his smile freezing on his face as he watched Héctor and Imelda walk away from him.

                “Si, como en los viejos tiempos.”

**Author's Note:**

> Primor = Beauty / Cutie / Hadsome... something like that.  
> Cariño = Dear  
> Como en los viejos tiempos = Like in the old times.
> 
> Please comment if I missed any.


End file.
